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verdanteffigy · 5 years

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A collection of witchcraft in the series 4/4

Under the read more is everything supernatural and witchy that I could find in the comics and books. Contains spoilers for The Wyrmwood Deceit, The Corroded Man, The Return of Daud, The Peeress and the Price, and The Veiled Terror. Collections 1-3 are everything supernatural and witchy that I could find in Dishonored 1/DLC, Dishonored 2, and Death of the Outsider.

The Wyrmwood Deceit

“It’s a curse on us Void-touched. Cruelty runs through us like a warp through a plank of wood.”

- Esmeralda Duggins

Esmeralda Duggins claims that “Void-touched” can do a lot with just a name of their victim once it’s been offered to them.

Esmeralda Duggins can seemingly divine information through touch of a relevant object with the help of spirits.

“I let her touch the mark on the piece of canvas. She mutters forbidden words and names as her finger traces the shape of it. One of the names I’ve heard before. As a child in Serkonos, I remember some poor soul screeching to it for mercy as an Abbey mob stoned him to death for witchcraft.”

- Martha Cottings

Broken Tom, a man that has bone charms embedded in his flesh and in a suit he wears, uses an arcane eyepiece that can detect where Corvo will blink to.

Delilah and her coven can conjure living creatures by painting them, can alter existing people by painting them in their likeness, and can peer into the memories of others.

“A boy - a nephew - concocted out of dreams and paint and made real by Delilah’s witchcraft and an aging man’s yearnings for his long lost sister. Delilah’s craft has grown that she’s able to make such a thing.”

- A witch

The Corroded Man

Everyone who comes into contact with the Twin-Bladed Knife has received a vision of the Great Burning.

The Twin-Bladed Knife somehow teaches Zhukov how to create corroded bone charms. These charms, like magic granted by the Mark of the Outsider, produce abilities that reflect the user’s personality, desires, experiences, and surroundings. These charms come at the cost of corroding both the charm and the user over time, eventually depleting the charm and making the user weak and physically ill. Corroded bone charms granted Zhukov an ability to transverse through reflective surfaces, an ability that produces a disorienting and nauseating aura that he can increase in intensity and cause other people to have visions, and an ability like telekinesis (he displays this when manipulating the Black Mirror shards). Corroded bone charms granted the new Whalers a normal blink transversal. The abilities these charms provide are unaffected by the Overseers’ ancient music.

Deep Watchers are unusually large whales that are described by Zhukov as “A creature of myth and legend, leviathan of the boundless depths. A creature of power. And a creature of magic.”, “-an abyssal leviathan, a so-called deep watcher. They live far away from the world of man, in the farthest, darkest places of the world. There they weave their own kind of magic, channeling a power that comes from within their very bones, the current flowing through them like a living battery.”

Zhukov and Galia used a transposition ritual once owned by Delilah to transpose themselves and a Deep Watcher whale’s jawbone from the Boyle vault back to their base of operations. This ritual’s ingredients were four fat, short, and orange beeswax candles, white chalk to inscribe geometric shapes that overlapped or connected by arcs and tangents, a “witchcharm” (the skull of a Brigmore witch) and corroded bone charms as sources of fuel. The chalk lines somehow repelled nearby blood.

A whale oil vat of “red-orange liquid”, the Twin-bladed Knife, the Deep Watcher’s jawbone, and presumably the sacrifice of Galia were the ingredients that crafted the Black Mirror. An artifact that allowed the sight of all potential pasts, presents, and futures.

“Unfortunately, a sacrifice was necessary. That artifact was from another time and place, a world that existed before this one, tethering me to it. I needed to unlock its power and pull on that tether, bringing that world closer to this one.”

- Zhukov

From within the Black Mirror shard and after it was pulled out, the knife was golden. Reaching inside the mirror and grabbing the knife healed Emily’s hand.

“Sometimes when I sleep, I dream, and in those dreams I am many things. I am an adventurer, a traveler. I am a hero and I am a tyrant, a beggar on the street, the ruler of the world. And sometimes in those dreams I see a light, bright and shining, red and golden white, the light of a fire that burned so very long ago, when one world ended and another began. And when I wake the dream is gone but the feeling remains, the echo of a song ringing in my ears, the warmth of a winter hearth and the shine of light on a distant unknown horizon.”

- The Ashen Veil

The Return of Daud

Maximilian Norcross possesses an arcane eyepiece that allows him to detect magic. He uses it to determine if runes and bone charms are real. But he discovers that he can also see the Mark through Daud’s glove with it.

“The witch toppled to the ground, dead. Burning lines began to run along her skin, blackening her clothing-- the remains of some occult tattoo that Daud did not quite understand, though he’d seen other sorcerers employ similar tricks.”

“Thick, viscous black liquid poured out of the wound. Again, lines of fire streaked along her back and shoulders as the strange marks burned away.”

The Twin-bladed Knife is said to no longer have the power of Void Strike.

Daud became terminally ill when he touched the Twin-Bladed Knife. The veins in his hand and arm turned black, he became tired, nauseous, and he found it harder to breathe.

“When I came back the first time, it crystallized this moment, making it part of history. Now, no matter what I do, no matter how many times I try, I can’t change it.”

- Billie Lurk

“- as Daud drew on the rune’s power, the artifact grew hotter and hotter, the glow from within the whalebone soon a blinding light. He fell to his knees, screaming in rage. It was a terrible roar from the very depths of his being. He felt the pain from the Outsider’s Mark flood over him like boiling oil, until he felt like he was enveloped in a cloak of fire. The rune in his hand exploded. The shockwave shattered the glass cabinets and knocked Daud back to the floor. The tower room was filled with exploding glass; Daud rolled onto his front, shielding himself as the debris rained down. His eyes were screwed shut, but he could see a blue light, so bright it was blinding, and all he could hear was the guttural roar of his own voice as he screamed and screamed again until his throat felt shredded. What had gone wrong? Had he forgotten how to use runes? Or had it been too long--had something changed as he had aged? Or had he simply lost control? Rather than channeling the power of the rune into himself, perhaps he had reversed the process, diminishing his own power and overloading the artifact?”

"It is nothing more than a story, but then, so much of what we know of the powers of those who proclaim knowledge of witchcraft comes from such stories, sometimes no more than whispers and rumors. That we must rely on such unreliable sources of information is unfortunate, but learn what we can, when we can. It is claimed that those touched by the Void employ servants, under some form of mesmeric influence, living for the singular purpose of serving their terrible mistress or master. Further, it is said by those who have born witness that the connection between sorcerer and servant is comparable to familial love, although to say this perverts the very concepts of family or community.”

- On the Witch's Most Devoted Servant

Challis, a man implied to be spellbound by one of Delilah's witches, formed long-distance communication with a magical device that violently drew power from his mind.

Lucinda and Caitlin instantly grew their nails into claws to kill Challis.

Lucinda trapped Daud in his own mind with a mesmerizing spell, an Oraculum lens, and the sacrifice of Challis.

The Peeress and the Price

“I learned how to turn your power against you. There were some very old notes at the Academy of Natural Philosophy. And a dying scholar there made something for me in his last days. Reversing the Void energies of bone charms. What would a bone charm that’s had its energy reversed do?”

- Luella Price

Pink bone charms introduced in this comic have magic nullifying abilities like the Overseers’ ancient music.

The Veiled Terror

Billie is no longer able to use Displace and Foresight. She can’t summon the Twin-bladed Knife until much later in the book without a horrible pain and going unconscious. There is no mention of Semblance or Rat Whispers.

Billie’s Black Shard Arm creates frost on surfaces she touches.

The Sliver of the Eye can now only detect magic.

After the “fall” of the Outsider, everyone across the empire began to have nightmares every night.

Months after the removal of the Outsider, Void rifts began to appear. Void rifts slowly “shear” the world. Inside the Void rifts are parallel worlds called the Void Hollows, places of any timeline. The first Void Hollow Billie travels to is one in which construction for the Leviathan Causeway is complete, whereas in the real physical world, it was still in its early stages. Inside the Void Hollows, with specially made runes, one can teleport to any location within it. And one can enter and exit a Void Hollow with these altered runes.

The removal of the Outsider is what caused the Void to become unmoored from the physical world, slowly departing. But it wasn’t until months later when Emily dissolved the Abbey that they began to appear. Billie speculates that the Abbey was performing a ritual to the hold the Void in place.

After the removal of the Outsider, the Overseers generally “fought amongst each other in the street, became rabid, insensible, and highly dangerous.”

Hayward Woodrow, a former Overseer, stabbed himself with a Voidrite knife and carved lines into his flesh. He became entranced while his face began to twitch and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He chanted “Yram da haal, yram da haelt, tilb mal, yram, yram” and “Eco, lazar, lapolay, yram. Eco, lazar, lapolay, yram.” By doing this, his target victim fell paralyzed, began to convulse, and foam at the mouth. This also caused a repelling area of effect that Billie struggled to get through while shelves began to shake violently and glass broke nearby.

"The Outsider has fallen and has taken his magic with him. Oh there are other magics, certainly -- oh yes, I saw the fuss that young Overseer made at the apothecary's-- but as one divinity falls, so others compete to take its place. With the Outsider gone, those who carry his mark are no longer linked to him, and they have no power."

- Professor Dribner

The drug that Billie uses, “Green Lady”, somehow weakens her connection to the Void.

“I must insist that you give up your Fool’s Fancy(Green Lady). It may be painful, but you need to let the parts of you that are part of the Void be drawn fully to it. That herb dulls not only your senses, but also your tether to the Void. If you are to be of any use, you must clear your mind entirely. Only then will the full potential of your connection be useful to us.”

- Professor Dribner

Billie is described as being more linked to the Void than any of the Marked were.

Bone charms are used in protective clothing to ward off the corruption of the Void while near Voidrite.

"But strangest of all was the bone charm set into the base of each mask, directly below the porthole. Smaller than the circular runes Billie knew the guards had on their belts, the bone charms were irregular pieces of magical scrimshaw, held into a circular cutout in the metal of the masks by two crisscrossed straps. Each of the four guards had a different charm in place."

Voidrite, the black stone we see in the Void, releases an anti-gravity gas when combusted.

Like the Eyeless and the Envisioned, people near the Voidrite began to physically and mentally change. Unlike the Eyeless, everyone who came into contact with the Voidrite over extended periods of time became near-mindless. These people eventually became creatures like the Envisioned, but their bodies were different and were used as miners to mine Voidrite with their claws.

Queen Eithne knew about Billie’s past, including things not even Billie knew (the names of her parents), by traveling through Void rifts.

Billie is outside of time and can control Void rifts.

The Outsider’s Altar is described as being one of the two most powerful artifacts in existence, the second being the Twin-Bladed Knife. By placing oneself on the altar, one can project themself as a “Void Shadow” entity. As a Void Shadow, one can open and close Void rifts at will and have abilities that allow one to shapeshift the body to focus strength or length of a specific body part (like lengthening claws), an ability to generate smoke that burns the eyes and nose of those nearby, an ability to become a whirlwind that can kill multiple people instantly, and the ability to crawl on walls and ceilings.

“She wants the Sliver and the arm. Partly, yes. But combined with the artifact she already has, she’ll have full mastery of the rifts. She’ll be able to travel through them corporeally, and the changes she makes to time will crystallize, become fixed points on which the world pivots.”

- Billie Lurk

“The only thing stopping you from summoning the blade is your own fear. You think you’re different, that your powers have changed, and the Knife knows that.”

- Billie Lurk

By placing King Briam on the altar next to Queen Eithne and slashing open their chests with the Twin-bladed knife, the Void Shadow engulfed the altar, the bodies, and the Knife to become more of a “metallic collection of geometric shapes”. In this form, the Void Shadow fed on Voidrite to become even more powerful.

#Dishonored #The Wyrmwood Deceit #The Corroded Man #The Return of Daud #The Peeress and the Price #The Veiled Terror #I know it's a mess #A collection of witchcraft in the series

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hookaroo · 5 years

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Vocivore, Ltd. (15 of ?)

A OUAT WINTER WHUMP FIC

Also on FFN and AO3 (ack I need to update there!) (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @cocohook38, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY COCOHOOK38 HERE!!!!!******

****NEW!!!!!!!!!!!! Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!!!!!*************

Present (Wednesday, continued)…

Jones got as far as the medical unit hallway, Killian’s open door in sight, before hesitating. He wanted to help, he wanted updates on his friends… but maybe his presence would be more disruptive than it was worth. Would it be too stressful for Emma to have her husband’s doppelganger nearby while she tried to process his condition? Not to mention the worry over her father and the worse, ever-present terror of missing Hope… she wouldn’t want him there, surely. She would feel remorseful, being reminded of his injuries; he should just go, and wait to be contacted with news and requests for help.

His abrupt about-face set him squarely in the path of a grim-faced Whale. With a sheepish nod of apology, Jones stepped to the side, intending to let the physician pass. But instead, Whale stopped, looking him over with a critical eye.

“What are you doing out of bed?”

“Er, well, I’m not actually… I’m… I’m not that Killian.” He waved in the direction of the deputy’s room and felt a vague sense of the knots holding his arm together, though the majority of the pain was still being kept in check by the nerve block.

“Obviously,” snarked Whale. “But you still look like you’re about to collapse on my linoleum. Why aren’t you down in the ED?”

“I was released,” Jones informed the self-important man. “All fixed up.”

Whale looked doubtful, but he came to the obvious conclusion regarding why the detective was here rather than on his way home. “You wanted to see Hook?”

Jones rolled his eyes and nodded. The physician pursed his lips in thought.

“I don’t know that you qualify as family, even though technically, I guess you share the same DNA…”

“I’m here more in an official capacity,” countered Jones, deciding to go in after all. He’d come this far; he wouldn’t be intimidated away by Dr. Whale.

With an annoyed shrug, the physician relented. “Whatever. Come on, then. If you do feel faint, try not to pass out near anything that might split your head open.” He pushed past and headed for Killian’s room. Jones followed cautiously.

Killian lay unconscious amidst a tangle of equipment, looking shockingly corpse-like. Blankets and bandages covered the worst of his injuries, and most of the grime had been removed, which only served to highlight the colorlessness of whatever skin remained free of cuts, abrasions, or bruising. The absence of the collar was a major improvement, but the dramatic wasting of his flesh gave the impression that he suffered a terminal illness. Technically, Jones mused, that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Emma sat beside the bed, sandwiching her husband’s skeletal hand between both of her own, simply watching the rise and fall of his chest. She tensed as the two men entered, looking immensely sad and weary. Her only acknowledgement of Jones was a brief glance in his direction, a quick sweep of her gaze assessing his well-being, and then she turned her attention back to Whale. The physician stopped at the foot of the bed while an awkward Jones hung back near the doorway.

“Still waiting for confirmation on the MRI,” Whale began without preamble. “But from my interpretation, I’d say he’s not as far gone as I had expected, given how long he’s been enslaved. Definitely some signs of deterioration, but with rest and support, he may recover on his own, or at least remain stable until we figure out an effective treatment.”

Emma looked as if she were about to say something, but Whale continued his spiel.

“As you might expect, his blood work is all over the place; lots of organs showing signs of stress. He’s anemic, which we’re obviously going to attribute to blood loss, so we’re working to correct that…”

Still feeling slightly uneasy about listening without an express invitation, Jones broke in,

“You could give him some of my blood, if that would help anything.”

He caught a small flash of gratitude from Emma before Whale fixed him with a derisive look.

“You’re not that far from needing a transfusion yourself.”

“Wake him up.”

The physician turned his startled gaze back on Emma. “What?”

“I want you to wake him up.”

Whale frowned. “That’s not a good idea. The victims that stayed sedated seemed to--”

“He might know something about Hope,” Emma stated flatly, emotions carefully under control. “Wake him up.”

Dr. Whale stared at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Be right back.”

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence in the physician's absence. Despite feeling like he might need to take a seat soon, the light-headed Jones remained where he was, watching Emma watch Killian. He drew a breath to speak, changed his mind, then changed it back.

“You okay?”

Emma nodded a lie, not looking at him. “You?”

“Fine.” He let his own falsehood stand for a beat, hesitated, then asked, “And… David? Have you heard…?”

“Looks like he’ll pull through.” Emma rubbed a hand down her face, adding, “The sword struck his shoulder blade, didn’t hit anything vital. His unconsciousness had more to do with a blow to the head.”

Jones couldn’t suppress a smile. “Lucky bastards, the both of us. I’m relieved to hear that, Emma.”

“Yeah.”

She appeared remarkably calm about everything, but Jones could make out well-hidden signs of tension and could certainly relate. He had never found it easy leaving Alice to go on supply runs, even knowing she was “safe” in her imprisoning tower. Later on, when the poison in his heart had prevented any contact, he was always worrying about her: whether she had enough to eat, whether she was sleeping all right. Whether she was truly safe from harm. Whether she’d been able to achieve some degree of happiness. But at least he’d known her whereabouts. Until she’d escaped the tower, anyway. Emma, though… to have no real clue where Hope was, how to go about getting her back, or whether she was even still alive… it had to be consuming her soul, the uncertainty. And Hope so young, as well. Not old enough to fend for herself in any way. The thought chilled him to the marrow.

Even worse was the possibility that Killian had been right, and that this nearly dead figure before them may have life-changing knowledge to impart. Jones shuddered, refusing to believe it.

“Look,” he began, “I know I’ve said this before, but… we’re going to get her back. I will do anything in my power to help. Anything.” He straightened, ignoring the sharp twinge from his damaged sternum, and went unsteadily to Emma’s side. “You’re not alone in this.”

Jones placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Emma looked up with watery eyes and nodded her thanks.

How many times had he heard similar words? How long before they had started to feel like empty platitudes; something that brought more comfort to the one offering than the recipient?

From this distance, Jones could see more detail in his other self’s condition, none of it encouraging. He noticed again the missing earring, a fact that had flashed into his awareness during their earlier encounter, but at that time could not have been less important. Now he saw the reason for its absence: a dark pink line extending from the now-healed-over pierced center of the lobe to its edge, signifying traumatic removal. Three similar scars adorned the rim in various places, with the intersecting white lines left by sutures. Ouch.

Drifting past visible marks elsewhere, some freshly dressed, Jones’ gaze inevitably settled on the obscene mutilation of Killian’s blunted wrist. The closest look he’d gotten before was its explosive introduction to his cheek, which stepped up its throbbing in reaction to the memory. The limb had been carefully bandaged with enough padding to ensure everyone’s safety, but the shape of the curved handle remained visible beneath the linens. Jones cringed and felt a very real pang in his own wrist when he pictured the brutality that must have taken place.

Emma likely wouldn’t want to think or talk about it… and yet, perhaps it was better than allowing constant speculation and gruesome imaginings about her missing toddler. Jones cleared his throat, stepping back a pace to set a more comfortable distance for conversation.

“Did they, erm, say anything about…” He trailed off and waved awkwardly toward Killian’s opposite side.

“The livestock nose ring, you mean?”

Jones nodded weakly, hastening to add,

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want; I only thought--”

“It’ll need surgery to remove,” was her blunt response, void of emotion. “There’s bone shards and things to deal with. But since it’s not really causing problems right now, it isn’t urgent, so they want to wait until he’s more stable.”

Jones nodded again. Thankfully saving him from more discomfort, a nurse came in, followed by Dr. Whale. After one final look at Emma to confirm her intentions, the physician gave approval for the nurse to administer the contents of a syringe into Killian’s IV port.

“It could take a couple of minutes, or not,” warned Whale. “Just try to go easy on him; give him a little bit of time to orient himself.”

Killian’s heartbeat and respiration were already beginning to speed up a bit. Jones slipped back further out of the way in case something unexpected required the medical personnel to have quick access to their patient.

The first sign of broadening awareness was the faintest of noises deep in Killian’s throat; a question or a quiet complaint, it was hard to tell. Jones saw Emma’s hands tighten around her husband’s as she watched his gaunt face.

“Killian?” she called softly. His only response was a slight twitch, barely distinguishable from the tremors being heightened by consciousness. She tried again. “Killian, it’s me. I’m here.” Dismayed to feel him flinch and try to pull away from her grasp, she said, “You’re safe; you’re in the hospital. You’re okay.”

The raspy whine sounded again, fractionally louder this time and with a definite note of displeasure. Watching his vitals closely, Whale interjected,

“Can you hear us, Hook? Do you understand what Emma’s saying to you?”

It looked as if Killian were still trying to free his hand, a small scowl on his face, though his eyes stayed closed. Emma remained stalwart in her grip as she tried a different tack.

“I know you want to go back to sleep. But I need to talk to you first.” Her tone was gentle but solemn. “It’s important.”

Responding to an oddity on the heart monitor, Whale snaked his stethoscope beneath Killian’s gown to have a listen. Killian’s reaction was a feeble attempt to bat it away, but Emma still had a firm hold on his hand.

“Shhh, Killian, it’s okay,” she soothed. “It’s just your best friend Whale being his usual irritating self.”

If she were hoping to get a response from him--a smile, a groan, or protest--then she would have been disappointed. Killian stopped squirming and lay still. Jones began to wonder if he’d fallen back into unconsciousness. But then he spoke, his voice nothing more than a minute whisper.

“I must return.”

Emma froze, just for an instant, then schooled her features. “Screw that. You’re not going anywhere. Whale’s going to fix you up, and then--”

“My… Master…” Killian wheezed, a little bit louder this time. Squeezing his hand so hard that he winced, Emma hissed,

“Can kiss my ass. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, going there in the first place, but I’ll be damned if I let you crawl right back into that bastard’s clutches.”

Killian had dragged his eyes open during her tirade, and now lay squinting at her, pained by the lights. With no hint of shame, remorse, or even anger at her tone of voice, he repeated his statement.

“I must return to my Master.”

Emma swore quietly and ran a shaky hand down her face. “You wanted to forget her, didn’t you? You went in case he had her. But if he didn’t, then you knew he’d suck out your brains to stop it hurting. Your… your failure. Is that it?”

Stunned by the vitriol in her words, Jones felt as if he should step in, say something before irreparable damage was done. But before he could devise the right words, Emma spoke again.

“Does he have her, Killian? Can you tell us anything useful?”

Glancing painfully at each face in the room, expression devoid of emotion, Killian murmured,

“I… I can’t… I need…” He made as if to reach for his throat. Then he stopped, resting back on the pillow and closing his eyes in a wince. Emma growled, obviously exasperated and frantic for information about her daughter. Dr. Whale, who was making somber notations in Killian’s chart, pressed his lips together. Then he said,

“Maybe we should try again later. This is stressing him out; I don’t like it.”

“Just… give me a few minutes alone with him.”

There was nothing ominous in the statement, but it was obviously not a request. Whale scowled, displeased at being ordered around on his own turf.

“That’s extremely ill-advised, Sheriff; too much excitement could overload his system, causing seizures and who knows what else… he needs to rest if he’s going to have any chance at getting better…”

Emma’s glare wasn’t quite enough to convince the physician, but it did shut him up. Grimacing, Jones broke in with gentle counsel.

“I hate to say it, but perhaps we should listen to Dr. Whale. You know as well as I that extracting information sometimes requires patience, no matter how urgently it’s needed.”

She seemed determined to ignore all good advice, fixing each naysayer with a glower of irritation. Turning back to Whale, she said,

“15 minutes. I’ll press the button if he starts acting weird.”

“5,” he countered. “And we wait just outside the door.”

“Yeah, like you have so much time to spare.” She rolled her eyes. “10 minutes, Detective Jones acts as door guard. If I can’t get anything by then, you can put him back to sleep for as long as you want.”

“A lot can go wrong in 10 minutes,” grumbled Whale. He cast a grumpy eye on Jones, then back to Emma. “Him? How do you know he won’t faint the minute we leave him unsupervised?”

Jones was starting to see why Killian wasn’t particularly fond of the man. Emma didn’t say anything, only crossed her arms and waited. She must have let go of Killian’s hand at some point, and he was using the newfound freedom to rub wearily at the raw skin of his bare throat. Dr. Whale heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Fine. But I have two witnesses that this is your decision. Any negative outcome rests squarely on your shoulders.”

“Done.”

Dr. Whale huffed and scrawled an emphatic note in the chart, then beckoned the nurse to follow him out the door. Jones turned to join them, but hesitated.

“Maybe he should be restrained in some way…?”

Emma looked askance at him. “Really? An armed law officer vs. a bedridden model for Mr. Zombie Universe?”

Jones remained uneasy but didn’t press the issue. “Call if you need anything.”

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #wish realm killian #victor whale #hospital #drugged #brainwashed #angst #serious illness #Vocivore ltd

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